no more difficult steps
no more tortuous excursions to the window, the toilet, the door
no more strong determined fragile tired tired smiles
her life has shrunk to this room
this bed
absorbed now in the process of each breath
she is so preoccupied with the business of dying
she is too busy for living
she
the primary she
my beginning and ending
A poetry blog started in a time of crisis, pain and loss (thats when the poetry flows!). Restarted now in the context of chronic disease. Life, eh?!
Thursday, May 17, 2007
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This disease
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1 comment:
oh. tingles.
i know exactly what you mean. that confinement to the bed, and the realisation that it is her deathbed. that awful knowing.
oh letty.
sorry i have only just seen these
x
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